


Breakfast for Samuel

by Kajune



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Flirting, Humor, M/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:45:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6359812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kajune/pseuds/Kajune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam wakes up at Bobby's to find Michael cooking in the kitchen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast for Samuel

It's morning, Sam notes, as he stirs himself awake with a loud, undignified yawn. Dean doesn't wake from the sound, seemingly lost in dreamland on the bed next to him. Sam looks at him fondly before getting up, eager to have most of the coffee before Dean does.

He's yawning as he walks down the staircase, but the sound of sizzling catches his attention. Sam spots Bobby on the couch, unconscious, as he walks towards the kitchen.

He nearly panics wondering who it could be.

When he reaches the source of the sound, he finds a jet-black haired man working at the stove, back turned to Sam.

"Um, hello?"

The person, as he turns round, turns out to be Michael.

Michael is also wearing an apron.

It's yellow, with a picture at the center.

A moose.

Why is there a moose on Michael's apron?

"Good morning." Michael says, voice soft to the point that Sam is noticeably taken aback.

He walks over and stands by the kitchen counter, and tries hard not to think too much about the obnoxious-looking outfit Michael has on. He's wearing a white dress shirt and a pair of blue jeans Sam remembers Dean buying him. He's even got slippers on.

Moose slippers.

Sam makes a mental note to remind Crowley to give him a new nickname.

"Wha...what are you doing?"

He notices how Michael is also humming.

"Cooking you some fried eggs."

Sam's jaw drops at that.

He said what?

"You're cooking _me_ , eggs?"

Michael nods but doesn't turn round. His humming grows louder until he's singing a love song. Sam pales from utter bewilderment. He scrubs his eyes to make sure this isn't Lucifer or some imposter in disguise.

He almost wishes this _was_ someone else, then it would make sense.

Sam quietly waits for Michael to finish. When the archangel spins round, he puts a plate with fried eggs and rice on the countertop. He walks over and grabs a chair for Sam, which Sam reluctantly accepts. They are face to face a minute later.

"Try it."

The look Michael shoots him is innocent enough to make Sam relent. He cuts a slice, and begins chewing.

Sam nearly chokes, not because there's anything wrong with the taste, it's actually very delicious, perfect and better than anything he's eaten before. Egg, he's eating an egg cooked upon Bobby's old stove yet it tastes like a piece of heaven. Maybe Michael added a secret angelic ingredient, but Sam's too busy enjoying it to ask.

The way the archangel is acting, all caring and nice and dedicated to filling Sam's tummy up despite the early hour, reminds Sam of a typical housewife, but then there's that love song that implies more than just an attempt at being motherly.

Sam notices the expectancy in Michael's eyes, along with a grin that looks almost capable of splitting his face in half.

Sam nods to show his liking, and this somehow produces an even larger grin on Michael. Nothing about Michael today is anything like his usual self, least of all the apron. It makes Sam a tad bit uncomfortable since he doesn't know how to behave.

He tries to be polite nonetheless.

Michael's fingers begin carding through his hair, slowly, a gesture he finds rather intimate.

Then it dawns on him.

"A-are you...flirting with me?"

Michael's face is inhumanly blank for a few seconds. Then, it all dissolves into a weird combination of goofiness and mischief.

"Probably."

His answer says a whole lot less than his expression does.

Sam drops the fork, unable to process the situation since none of it should actually be happening. He's been flirted with by guys before, almost once from every age, but for an archangel to make him breakfast and be sweet and loving and romantic about it...it's just too much.

He buries his face in the palm of his hands.

Suddenly, he hears clanking sounds and when he urges his eyes to look up, he sees Michael, nothing different.

He looks down, now his egg has a smiley face on it.

_Seriously?_

"I hope you finish this," Michael says. "and that you do so with a smile on your face."

He cups Sam's chin to bring their eyes to the same level. Sam is expressing wariness while Michael looks positively delighted. It's like Sam somehow agreed to all of this and does, in no way, find it creepy. He does actually, but Michael isn't giving him a minute to voice what he's thinking, or ask what _Michael_ is thinking.

Hopefully it's not something perverted.

"Samuel."

Michael leans forward and pecks him. Sam falls back off the chair, shocked, and gets up within seconds only to find the kitchen empty.

Bobby scrambles into the room, shotgun in hand, eyes wide and searching for some danger. He soon spots a ruffled-up looking Sam sitting on the floor, and grows a disappointed look on his face.

"Sammy," Dean calls from outside the room, his voice laced with tiredness. "you okay?"

Sam looks around himself, thinks about what just happened, tries to ignore Bobby's disapproving glare and the warm feeling on his lips, and says...

"I have no idea."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I think there's a lot wrong with this story, but I have no idea how to improve it. I still hope you readers enjoyed~


End file.
